Risk: A Story of Love
by lozzapozza
Summary: After being admitted to Danvers State Insane Asylum in 1934 Brittany Pierce gave up on ever finding love again. That was until the arrival of a certain Santana Lopez.


Shouting. Punching. Screaming. I have to get out. Get away. Anywhere but here. How can I stand here and watch her being abused like this? I've gotta do something; but if I do then the punishment will consume me too. What if he has a weapon? What if he decides he wants me instead? Oh dear God, what do I do?

"I don't have to take this crap, not from you ya little balding prick"

I can hear them inside. Most of the hospital can hear muffled sounds but I find myself close enough to grasp every word that's being spoken. I position myself there, half watching half averting my eyes from the hideous sight before me. His hands are all over her. Sometimes caressing her body but mostly just grappling for a desperate feel of her bosom, fumbling around like a little school boy. The removal of his bright white lab coat had already begun, quite obviously assuming he'd get what he wanted from her. The cocky bastard.

"Bitch don't make me hit you again"

"G'head. Have fun explaining why I'm leavin' with a jacked up eye I didn't have before"

"Get here now or so help me god you will die in this place. I'll make sure of it. Hell - I might even be the cause of it. You aint nothin' but a jumped up whore"

How is it possible to treat her this way? As if she's nothing.

* * *

><p>I was admitted into Danvers State Insane Asylum in the march of '34 when my family claimed I was "near mental breakdown". Schizophrenia was the final diagnosis and next thing I knew I was sealed away in a small, pewter room of which disinfectant clogged up any trace of previous existence. For years I was lonely, but I was never insane. I kept my wits about me, not letting anyone get too close. That was until she arrived. It was only then that changes were afoot.<p>

"There are no other room's spare I'm afraid. She'll have to go in with you. Two schizo's together, how lovely" - the nurse practically spat at me, all while shoving a tall, curvaceous woman into the room before slamming the metallic door secure. "Nice place" she proclaimed as she landed on her bed with a soft thud. "So ... this where the magic happens eh?" her laughter filled the room. It was possibly the most sane thing I'd heard since my incarceration. I felt my body become rigid, was it my nerves? Perhaps it was the fear of having someone in such close proximity with me. Either way, this woman made me feel something I hadn't in a very long time. Alive.

* * *

><p>Santana's still screaming, but the doctor hasn't given up hope. Desperation in its purest form I find myself thinking. By now other nurses and doctors must have heard the commotion so why aren't they helping? Does nobody other than me care if she gets hurt?<p>

"Get your hands off me!"

Through clenched teeth, this was her final effort at letting him know she will not be beaten. He pressed her down hard against the wall, forcing her head towards him with a sharp crack of her neck against the plaster. The violence is getting out of hand, I can see this ending badly but here I am; standing helplessly out in the corridor. "Do something Brittany" I tell myself, "anything. Just get him away from her!"

It was as though she could hear my thoughts; like she was in my head - because with another outstanding burst of strength she managed to push all 180 pounds of his fat, sweaty physique across the room, toppling over a cabinet which had fallen prey to his previous outburst. Pain visible in her face, she powered through until she had a firm grip of the door handle. What was I doing? Why was I still standing motionless in the corridor? Why couldn't I be fearless like her?

Stumbling out at my feet, all I wanted was to help her but it was as though my feet were rooted to the floor.

"What are you doing woman, help me up and get me back to our room before he gets up! C'mon!"

Exasperation was clear in her voice, a characteristic of which I knew she was not used to. I snapped out of my daze and helped her to her feet. We just barely managed to get back to the room before the pain took over Santana's whole being. As I set her down on her bed to rest, she took my hand in hers and spoke in a somewhat whisper.

"Get me out of here. Promise you'll get me out of here"

* * *

><p>Glistening in the sky the moon looks so fragile tonight. Eerie darkness surrounds us but I put it to the back of mind, after all we have to keep moving or the risk of getting caught is increased profusely. Thoughts of what they would do if we are caught keep popping into my head but I won't… can't, let them take over. Part of me wants to get caught, I mean – what happens when I have all this newfound freedom? I can't go back to my family. I would have no one. Only Santana.<p>

"The guards are half asleep at this time anyway, we'll be fine!" her whisper of reassurance echoed into the darkness. No matter how much faith I have in Santana, this is just too much to comprehend. Punishments if we're caught would be malicious - advantageous in their own efforts at providing pain amongst the innocent. I can't do it. I can't do this. It's just too much for her to ask of me.

"We shouldn't do this; it's not too late to turn back Santana. Come on – they'll never know we left our beds and we wouldn't get in any trouble!"

"Trouble… Trouble is what you're worried about? Britt, the way I see it is we have three choices here. 1- We try to get the fuck out of here and we get caught, ending with us in the shit. 2- We go back to our beds and then that prick of a doctor comes after me again and I don't know if I can handle that; or 3 – we escape to our freedom, to our new life ahead of us. Consisting of just you, me and a couple of beers - living the high life. So c'mon stop being such a baby and get on with it before the guards hear me and option three vanishes into thin air."

Before long we find ourselves faced with yet another obstacle. A 2ft ditch filled with stagnant water and god knows what else is staring us right in the face. Santana's ready to jump, but I'm unsure. Hastily I grab her arm and pull her backwards away from the ditch. "No. You can't. You'll kill yourself for fuck sake!" I realised my voice was elevated to a pitch that was unfamiliar to me.

"You comin' or what?"

I go to take a running jump but my legs were telling me something. They've turned to stone and won't budge. Suddenly everything I blocked out of my head is coming back to me. The eeriness of the asylum at night, the images of punishment I would have to endure, the loneliness I would escape yet only to feel a new wave of it in a world I was not accustomed to. Nothing good could come out of this. I'm certain of it.

"I can't do this! Santana I can't! I'm not strong enough!"

By now my voice has risen to a level I guess only dogs can hear, but I am panicking. I had to make a decision and quick, or I risked putting Santana's escape in danger as well as my future at the asylum.

"Just go on, you're the one that needs this Santana – not me. I can live here, it's not so bad, and I like the peacefulness and the quiet. Please. Just, don't make this harder than it already is – leave. Go! Hurry!"

I can hear the guards' feet shuffling now; they've finally realised someone's attempting to escape and are trying desperately to get in place. Santana's face is emotionless, for the first time since I've known her I can't tell what she's thinking. Our connection has broken. And it's all my fault.

As her silhouette is swallowed by the darkness, I make one last attempt at saying goodbye to the only person who was there for me when I needed someone more than ever. Someone I let myself love in a place where that word is but a faint hope.

"Don't forget me!" I scream.

To which she replies "I will never remember anything else"

Why am I letting her go? Why can't I be brave for once in my god damn life? Why am I such a fucking coward?


End file.
